Pineapple
by frk-werewolf
Summary: It started with her hairbrush. BuffyAndrew pairing, written for livejournal's tamingthe muse.


Title: Pineapple

Author: frkwerewolf

Fandom: Buffyverse

Pairing: Buffy/Andrew

livejournal's tamingthemuse"#25: Kleptomaniac

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,763

Warnings: 1 bad word and, well, look at the pairing.

Summary: It started with her hairbrush.

Notes: I have no idea as to why, but this is my OTP when it comes to pairing Buffy up with someone. Am I strange becuase of that? Oh, and this is Season 7 of Buffy.

_klept-o-ma-ni-ac (n.): An obsessive impulse to steal regardless of economic need._

* * *

It started with her hairbrush. He hadn't meant to take it, honest. One moment he had been standing in the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet in search of a band-aid, and the next he had picked it up and carried it down to the basement. Spike was gone, so he had the place to himself for a few hours. Once there he had stared at the curling collecting of blonde hair, wondering why her hair smelled a bit like pineapple, and feeling like an idiot for stealing it.

Next came the small dagger she had left in the living room. His intention was to return it to her, but no matter how often he walked toward her with that very purpose he managed to screw it up. Whether it was the look of utter bafflement at seeing him even near her or the expressions of contempt on those around her, there was always something that sent him running the opposite direction.

When he found her bra hanging up to dry, he didn't even thinking about how wrong it was to snatch the fabric up and run away with it. Yeah, he had issues all right. He didn't need this stuff, but he kept stealing it all because it belonged to her and he could. That, in its self, made him feel more powerful than it should.

Then came the day he stole a necklace off her dresser, it's emerald pendant calling to him like an oasis calls to the desert traveler.

"I can't find it," Buffy said at lunch. Her and Willow were sitting in the kitchen, ignoring his presence. He had long gotten used to being ignored and he often wondered if they realized how much ammunition he actually had on them. "I left it on my dresser, I know I did. I remember taking it off last night."

"I'm sure we'll find it, Buffy," Willow assured her.

"My mother gave me that necklace," Buffy said, softly.

He thought of the necklace safely tucked away in his knapsack upstairs. A flush of guilt washed through him, but he didn't want to give it back. Not yet, anyway.

"Hey, Andrew?" Buffy spoke up him once Willow had left them. Andrew looked up from where he was pretending to read a cookbook. "You don't...you don't have any of those funnel cakes left, do you?"

"Yeah!" Andrew burst out, shocked to have someone actually i asking /i for a funnel cake. Then again, there was no chocolate in the house and Andrew had always been in favor of making funnel cakes as sweet and comforting as possible.

"Thanks." Buffy smiled slightly toward him. She was the only one that actually did that. Now that he thought of it, she was the only one that ever remembered his name, too.

"I'm sorry about your necklace," Andrew told her. It was a pathetic comment, considering he had been the one to steal it.

Andrew set down a plate holding the very last funnel cake. He watched her pick at it, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. She really was working herself too hard, Andrew noted. Feeling even guiltier than he thought possible, Andrew left her alone in the kitchen. He grabbed the small bag of things he had stolen, the weight heavy in his hands.

It had been silly, anyway. He had no actual reason to take the things he did. It had only been this constant, obsessive urge to own something that belonged to Buffy Summers.

He put the brush back in the bathroom and the dagger in her chest of weapons. He went upstairs, easily dodging the Potentials and Dawn. He had enough practice becoming invisible, so it wasn't that difficult. He had just pulled the necklace and bra out of the bag, nervously fingering the silk material of the bra, when Buffy's door opened.

"Andrew?" Buffy asked, frowning at him. Andrew immediately dropped the items in shock. She followed their fall to the floor, before looking back up at him. "What the hell is this?"

"I-I-" Andrew couldn't get anything out. The door slammed behind Buffy as she stormed toward him. He winced, but managed to stand still as she bent to pick up her necklace. He watched her put it on in jerky motions, her anger manifesting itself physically. "I'm sorry."

"Really?" Buffy raised an eyebrow and held the bra up. "This went missing nearly a month ago, Andrew. If you were so sorry then you would have given it back a lot sooner."

"I couldn't help it," Andrew said, whining. "I just had the urge to steal it. I'm a kleptomaniac. I had no reasons."

"You are such a liar," Buffy snapped, "and you're not a kleptomaniac."

"Okay, maybe not, but I just kind of wanted something that was..." Andrew shifted from foot to foot and scratched at one arm in an attempt to hold off telling the truth. "I wanted something that was yours."

"That's oddly stalkerish of you, Andrew," Buffy commented. She didn't look as mad as she had been. Andrew peeked up at her through his lashes. In fact, she looked kind of amused. He didn't know how to respond to that. A dramatic image erupted in his head of Buffy suddenly swooning before him, leaving Andrew nothing to do but kiss her better. Andrew blushed.

"Umm, I'm going to go now," Andrew said.

"No, you're not," Buffy ordered. Andrew stiffened, immediately standing as still as possible and following her order. Buffy appeared to appreciate this.

"Yes, ma'am," Andrew replied.

A week later, after Buffy had a long conversation with him on when it was appropriate to take someone's things and when it was a _very bad idea_, Andrew spotted a blue hair clip on the coffee table in the living room. Being the bored person that he was, Andrew picked it up and began playing with it. When Buffy entered the room, Andrew was in the process of using the hair clip as a weapon of mass destruction against the paperclip army he had lined on the table.

"Andrew, I thought we talked about this!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What--?" Andrew started.

"Don't steal my things," Buffy ordered, pulling the hair clip from his hands. Andrew stared up at her, eyes wide.

"I wasn't--" Andrew attempted to say.

"And don't lie to me," Buffy said with a vague pout, as though Andrew lying to her was actually upsetting. This made Andrew pause. Since when did Buffy care about his opinion or behavior toward her? Buffy sighed and sat down next to Andrew, catching him even more off guard. He managed to stop himself from falling off the sofa. "Andrew, I think it's obvious what's going on here."

"Umm." That was about all Andrew could contribute to this conversation.

"It's okay," Buffy continued, oblivious to Andrew's confusion. "A lot of guys have had crushes on me before, but you know what? When they learn about who I am or they try to date me, it never works out. Do you want to know why?"

"...Sure?" Andrew offered.

"Because I'm the Slayer," Buffy said, simply. Andrew blinked. "I know, it gets old, but it's true. Men don't want a girl that can bench-press three times their weight. They want dainty girls that need saving. So, I'm sorry, but I think it's best if you just get over this little crush of yours."

Andrew was silent for a moment, wondering if he should even say anything at all. He cleared his throat and scratched at his arm nervously. "I don't mind that you're the Slayer. I think it's cool and...nice."

"Trust me, you wouldn't feel that way if we were dating," Buffy scoffed.

"Actually..." Andrew gave a sheepish smile. "I'm not exactly the strongest or bravest person in the world. I kind of like the idea of someone being able to protect me. Besides, you're not just a girl. You're the Slayer."

Buffy stared at him a moment, her fingers popping the hair clip open, only to close it again. Then, Buffy let out a rather hysterical laugh. Andrew got a little scared at that particular sound, but managed not to run for help. Buffy shook her head and sighed. "Fine. If this will keep you from stealing my things, I don't see the harm in it."

"Huh?" Andrew asked.

Buffy ignored his question and, grabbing his shirt, pulled him closer. Andrew's eyes widened as Buffy's lips attacked his own. She tasted like pineapple lip-gloss.

She removed her lips before Andrew could even think of returning the kiss. Buffy bit her lower lip and her head gave another shake. "No, that probably won't do."

Then she was kissing him again, this time tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Andrew was lost on what to do. He placed his hands on her shoulders, not sure where else they should go, and tried his best to kiss her back. The brief kiss soon turned into a passionate one as Buffy's tongue darted across Andrew's lip, pulling a moan of surprise and shocked arousal from his chest. He felt Buffy smile against him, her body pressing closer and her tongue invading his mouth.

Andrew soon realized that he was making too much noise: a small collection of gasps and frequent groans drawn from every move that Buffy made. She had somehow got him to lean back, her body now on top of his. Feeling a bit more self-confident, since Buffy hadn't ran screaming from the room, Andrew slid his hands down Buffy's arms. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, causing her chest to press in against his. Finally, Buffy made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

Buffy pulled back, lips red and swollen. She blinked rapidly, before narrowing her eyes down at him. Andrew immediately let her go, watching as she sat up, her face growing red. Buffy cleared her throat. "Right, so, uh, that should show you that you're not at all attracted me and this strange way you have of trying to show you like me needs to stop...okay?"

"Yes, of course, I can do that," Andrew stammered. He sat up, adjusting his shirt. He glanced over at Buffy, who met his eyes before turning away.

"Shit," Buffy exclaimed. She let out a slight growl and Andrew blushed in response. Then, she turned and looked at him. "This is worse than Spike."

Before Andrew could reply, Buffy had him shoved against the back of the sofa, her lips once again on his. She still tasted like pineapple.


End file.
